


I could smell something burning.

by Voidbeans



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dystopia, Family, Family Member Death, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Blood, Original Fiction, POV First Person, Pandemic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidbeans/pseuds/Voidbeans
Summary: "When they finally announced the threat to be over in the radio, I could smell something burning."Something I wrote to vent out the overwhelming feelings of dread and unreality of the pandemic of 2020. I can't really recommend this fic if you're already in a state of constant anxiety due to everything horrible that has happened this year, but if you choose to read this regardless, be warned. It's a bit heavy. I just felt the need to share since, despite the horrible subject matter, this is probably one of my best horror works so far.





	I could smell something burning.

When they finally announced the threat to be over in the radio, I could smell something burning. The entire apartment block sighed in relief and I could faintly hear a choir of hurrays through the walls. It made me feel so much lighter. It had been snowing outside for a few days already and I knew my children would be delighted to hear that it's finally save to go out and play. I barely had the time to tell them to wear something warm when I already caught them running off through the front door.

Deciding not to lecture them this time, I checked the oven. Perhaps the smell had come in through the vents, from one of my neighbors' apartments. The old lady living just downstairs from me was known to be forgetful.

Maybe, upon hearing the news, she'd just left something on the stove by accident.

It kept snowing.

The radio sang praises of its beauty, saying it was a gift from God after all the hardships we, as people, had gone through for so many months. There were promises of interviews with the government officials. Everyone was starving to know how we'd been saved. But that would have to wait. Better to catch up on all the lost time first, or so we were told.

The kids played themselves to exhaustion each day. I kept asking them over and over again to not get themselves dirty while playing outside, yet I ended up having to bathe them each evening.

One time, my youngest fell asleep in the bathtub. The tiny little nose had almost sunk amidst the foam and bubbles when I finally noticed and pulled my child back to the surface. No coughing out water, no gagging. Just a tired whine over being woken up. I laughed and helped them both dry themselves up, after which I tucked them into bed.

The stinging stench of smoke lingered in my nose.

It had gotten awfully quiet in the apartment block ever since the announcement. Everyone was outside again. I could tell as much just looking through the window and seeing all the footprints in the snow. I'd never been a fan of the cold brought by snow, so I stayed inside. The kids were old enough to take care of themselves by now.

I'd been smelling something burning in the staircase for at least a week by now, yet no one else appeared to experience it. I even tried knocking on the door of that old downstairs lady to check if she'd been having troubles with her oven.

It wasn't until after I had already knocked that I noticed the nameplates on the door were gone.

My youngest could no longer get out of bed. It was as if the child's muscles had simply stopped working. Awake, yes, though barely. Most of the time used vomiting between the strong coughing fits. I spotted amidst the bile, pieces of half-digested carrots and mucus.

No answer from the doctor's office.

I opened the windows to air out the stench of vomit. Surely some fresh air would help my child breathe, too.

My eldest asked if this was what we were both fearing.

The smell of something burning was stronger than ever before.

I received a call. Not from the doctor, despite my many attempts at contacting them. They introduced themselves as a representative of a government body in charge of epidemic control. Upon hearing the news of my child's illness, they offered us a ride to hospice. The state of my youngest had worsened as of the past few days. No longer able to eat, drinking only a little. The cough, oddly enough, had died out a little, but there was an eerie, high-pitched ringing to the breathing, which was still heavy and uneven.

They came during the same day with their masks and overalls. I could not see their faces, nor hear their voices. Without a word, they took my youngest with them, like the night wind swiping away the dust from the asphalt.

My eldest was furious. Kicked, screamed, demanding to be with their sibling. Yet it was almost as if we never existed in this world.

All there was was the hazmat-suited men and my child on the stretcher, barely breathing, pale as a corpse.

”And how did we achieve such a feat? How did we take down this plague so fast?”

The late night radio show echoed in my silent apartment. The same words repeated in different paces behind the walls, throughout the entire apartment block. Everyone had been waiting for this interview, even I.

Sat on the window sill, I let my eyes roam the snow-covered roads. There had been less footprints as of late. I wondered if they were just so quickly drowned out by the ever growing heaps of snow. The clouds were rolling in from the East in a barrage of dark gray, blocking the sky from view.

The coughing fits of my eldest sounded so very far away.

”The blessings of God have brought us here”, stated the government official, his voice steady and low. Unfaltering.

”That and, of course, the undeniable logic of our governing officials. We worked tirelessly for many weeks to achieve this resolution, which would minimize the risks to us all.”

My throat closed off on me. I bent over under the sheer weight of my own, helpless coughing and covered my mouth quickly with my hand.

I could not let my eldest hear me. Couldn't possibly let my child worry.

Still gagging, I pried the window ajar with my fingers.

I desperately needed some air.

”And what is your message to those who have lost loved ones to this catastrophe?”

”No victory comes without a cost. It's a shame we lost so many, but times as tough as these recquire tough decisions to be made.”

A few snowflakes floated past the window and onto my lap.

They didn't melt.

Hesitant, I opened the window an inch more and reached my hand to feel the air outside, for the first time in months. It was surprisingly warm.

”May God be merciful on those many everyday heroes, who were taken from us by this epidemic. May their souls get the best of treatment for their brave sacrifice towards out beloved nation.”

I managed to catch a snowflake between my fingers.

Those fingers were just as quickly stained a dark, ashy gray.

It was dark outside, but despite the clouds, I could see the faint, red glow of a sunset off in the distance in the East.

”May God be with us all.”

I could smell something burning.


End file.
